My compass and my sea
by christeeny
Summary: Emma escapes from the pressures of being the Savior, but a certain one-handed pirate follows. A war of words follows, with both laying their thoughts and feelings bare.


He found her down by the beach.

She had escaped there earlier from the diner, when the townsfolk had interrupted a relatively quiet dinner and erupted into another outraged tirade about the curse, and who cast it, and why couldn't they remember the past year, and what was being done about it. And while no one had come out and explicitly said it, it was there in the heavy moments of silence, in the sideways glances tossed her way: everyone was waiting for her, waiting for the Savior to step up and save the day.

Emma didn't know how to save the day, not this time. She had accepted her role as the fabled Savior of the town, accepted that she had to break Regina's curse and restore everyone's memories. But she hadn't realized that her title came as a full-time job—more like a life sentence, to be honest. It all felt too heavy for her now. Too much pressure and too many expectations weighed down on her, and everywhere she turned, there was another expectant face watching her, waiting. So when Leroy had piped up loudly again about making sure Regina really wasn't responsible (Emma thought the queen might be the only person she could actually relate to in terms of pressure on them), Emma took the opportunity to slip out the door and into the night. And while a few options flitted through her mind—the loft, her room at Granny's, the station—she ended up here. The place where Henry had shown her the storybook and told her who she was (even if she thought it was a load of crap at the time), and where her father had found her when she skipped out on lunch with Neal. It was her escape, a place where the sea air breezed past her, allowing her to clear her mind and be alone with her thoughts (as much as possible, at least).

So, of course, her solitude was destined to be interrupted shortly.

"Taking solace from the sea, Swan?" his voice lilted.

Emma sighed and slowly looked up to see the pirate looming over her, a pensive look on his face.

"I'm really not in the mood, Hook." She dropped her gaze back to the dark sea, hoping (fruitlessly) that he would take the hint and leave. Of course he didn't, though. Instead, he sat down next to her and let out a breath of his own.

"I've always found it to be quite peaceful, watching the waves. When you live on a ship, it's hard to feel like you can escape at all, but when you stop at look at the sea, stretching out in all directions as far as the eye can see, you can start to find some peace."

Emma pursed her lips. "Yeah, that's what I was hoping to find. But apparently, even _that's_ too much to ask for." She raised her eyebrows pointedly at him, and was glad to see his face fall slightly in remorse.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright, love," he murmured softly.

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and hissed out a breath. "I know, I know you did. You always do." She paused and shook her head, her thoughts running away from her. "I can't get a moment alone before I'm being bombarded by people complaining about the curse, or Regina wanting to find a new way to bond with Henry, or Henry asking how long this case will take. And then there's you—always hovering at my side, asking if I'm alright. Guess what, Hook? I'm _not_ alright. I don't know if I'll ever _be_ alright again, not since you came to New York and took Henry and me away from our life there, where we were happy and at peace and there were no curses or flying monkeys or magic or any of this crap."

Emma paused to take a breath after her rambling speech, and hazarded a glance at Hook next to her. His face was dark, lips pressed in a thin line, eyebrows drawn together. When he raised his eyes to meet hers, they were the deepest indigo of the night sky above them, almost black.

"I apologized for that, lass. You know how much I hated taking you from that life."

"Did you?" Emma shot back. "'Cause you sure seemed insistent, even after you'd seen how happy Henry and I were there."

Hook shot to his feet, whirling around to stand in front of Emma. "I never would have come for you, never would have taken your happiness—and your boy's—if not for the message I received."

Emma snorted. "Yeah, the message. Convenient how it just happened upon you, out in the middle of the seas, and no one can remember the past year to back you up."

Hook reeled back, startled at her accusation. "You really think I would make that up? I thought we had moved past our mistrust of one another back in Neverland."

Emma didn't answer, wasn't sure how to respond to that. Because she knew he was right; they had grown to respect one another during their days on the island, and she had learned to trust him, to turn to him. He had proven himself to her time and time again. But to admit to it felt like letting him win, so instead she stayed quiet.

Hook sighed in frustration when she refused to answer him. "As for your other grievance, I won't apologize for staying at your side and coming after you."

That got Emma's attention, causing her to push herself to her feet before him. She craned her head to stare up at Hook's face. "You won't apologize? Why the hell not? I didn't ask for you to be my bodyguard! I didn't ask for you to be my therapist! And when I slip away from the group and hide out by myself, I'm sure as hell not asking for you to follow me! It's me saying that I want to be alone!"

"No," Hook growled, inching a step closer. "You don't."

"_No_?" she asked incredulously, eyes narrowing to slits.

"No," Hook affirmed. "You don't want to be alone. I know you don't."

"And how would you know a _thing_ about what I want?" Emma snapped.

"Open book, darling," Hook stated simply, though his words were laced with frustration and anger. Emma rolled her eyes and looked away. "You might want to escape the crowd, escape the people looking to you for guidance, but you don't want to be alone. No lost boy or girl ever really wants to be alone."

Emma stepped forward and opened her mouth to respond, but when she looked back at Hook, she realized how close they were to each other now. The toes of their boots touched, their breaths mingled as they both breathed heavily, catching their breath from their war of words. Emma's eyes dropped unconsciously to his lips, lingering there for a moment before lifting up to meet his gaze again. She almost wished she hadn't, because their cerulean depths were swirling like a stormy sea, a million emotions flickering inside. For a moment, she considered giving in. It would be so easy to fall forward those few miniscule inches, to press her lips to his. Before she could decide either way, though, Hook suddenly turned his cheek and took a step back, lifting his hand to rub at his chin uncomfortably.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke or moved. Then, "You'll figure it out. I know you will. You always do."

Emma shook her head slowly, fighting back tears. "I don't know this time. I…I wasn't prepared for this Savior stuff the first time around, and now everyone thinks I'm the expert, that I'm their hero, but I don't know how to be what they want me to be. I don't know if I _can_ be that person." She ran a hand through her hair. Emma looked up at Hook again. "How do you have so much faith that I can?" Her voice was filled with wonder and confusion.

Hook merely shrugged. "You've never ceased to amaze me. You're stronger than you think, love."

"I don't know about that. I don't feel strong right now."

Hook took a tentative step forward, his good hand slowly, cautiously, reaching up to rest on her shoulder. Emma tensed at first, then relaxed into his touch. A traitorous tear fell and she lifted her hand, wiping furiously at her eyes in a useless attempt to hold the rest back. Hook's hand tightened around her shoulder and he gently tugged her to him, pulling her into a sort-of one-armed embrace. She didn't wrap her arms around him, but she did allow her head to fall against his leather-clad chest as the tears continued to fall.

"Even heroes can feel weak. You don't have to be strong all the time. You just can't let yourself give up hope."

"Don't give up hope," Emma murmured, testing the idea out aloud. She laughed through her tears. "I guess I should expect nothing less from a man who spent 300 years on a quest for revenge."

She felt Hook drop his chin onto her head and could feel him smile against her hair. "Stubbornness may be a better way to describe that endeavor." He paused, as if afraid to continue. "But the quest I set off on after that definitely requires one not to lose hope."

Emma frowned, confused, and pulled back a bit. "What quest is that?"

Hook raised his eyebrows and simply stared at her expectantly, albeit a bit nervously. Emma thought for a moment before it dawned on her.

"_Oh_."

Hook smiled slightly. "Yes, endeavoring to win a lady's heart requires a great deal of patience and hope, especially when dealing with one as stubborn as mine."

A thought found its way to Emma's brain, one that had crossed her mind before, but she had never found the right time to ask it (or, more likely, she was too afraid to hear the answer). Now, though, she decided to take a leap of faith, so to say, and throw it out there.

"You tried to kiss me in New York," she stated.

"Aye," Hook answered.

Emma huffed, annoyed he didn't elaborate. "You were trying to…you were hoping it would…that we were…"

"I told you I hoped you felt as I did," Hook finished for her. "Though I've been told such efforts are of no use when the recipient has no memories."

"True," Emma agreed. "But that means you…"

"Love you?" Hook prompted. Emma felt a blush rise in her cheeks and averted her eyes. "I do." Again, his words were simple, stated as an obvious fact.

Emma looked at him in wonder, tears still brimming in her eyes (or perhaps they were new tears). She couldn't find the will to speak at the moment, unsure of what to say to that.

"I love you, Emma," Hook continued. "And I know that you need time, and you need to sort out how you feel for Baelfire and try to figure out if you can have a family with Henry and his father, and I can give you all the time you need." He grinned wolfishly. "I believe we've established that I'm nothing if not a patient man, and a man who refuses to give up hope. And until you tell me otherwise, I will continue to be at your side, and come after you when you run away, and help you see how truly extraordinary you are."

As he spoke, Emma stared at the man before her. A man who had proven himself to her, who had shown himself to be someone she could trust and who she could turn to when things became too hard to deal with on her own. Someone she had come to rely on. And as much as she had berated him for sticking at her side, she had begun to rely on that fact. She would search him out in the crowd, for his supportive nod and small smile. She would look to him to reassure her decisions and help her see the truth in every situation. She wanted him at her side, always.

Emma realized Hook had finished his speech and was waiting, watching her, looking more nervous and vulnerable than she could ever recall. She shook her head. "I want you at my side," she said to him. An ember of hope sparked in his eyes. "I don't know much of anything right now, but I know that I want you with me through it all. And I don't know what I can promise you, because I don't know what I feel right now, and I don't know if I can even start to think about that when there's so many other things for me to deal with, but I know that I want you here. With me. At my side."

Hook's face lit up and his mouth stretched in a wide smile. "I will take whatever you can offer me, and I will gladly remain at your side." He bowed slightly, his smile still in place.

Emma smiled in return. "Good."


End file.
